


the forgetful & the forgotten

by staygaytabulous



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: F/F, Marriage Proposal, Sexswap, all the girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 19:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6253381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staygaytabulous/pseuds/staygaytabulous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brenda puts work over her and Spencers's anniversary once again.</p><p>Shout out to my mom who works at Applebee's, aye! It's like my second home tbh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the forgetful & the forgotten

"You forgot." She mutters from the living room couch when I walk through the door.

I breathe in deeply before closing the front door behind me. My heart rate speeds up when I notice how her hands are trembling in her lap. A weak, "I'm sorry," comes from my mouth without order.

She sniffles and stands up, smoothing down her formal slacks, "You forgot again, Bren... how many more times will you forget? It's been three years since you made it on time or didn't forget about me altogether."

I slip off my jacket - her jacket, the one that I stole way back before dating was even a thought in my mind - and hold it tightly in my hands, "Me and Ryan were working late in the studio today, I'm sorry, Spence, I really am."

"You should be!" She yells. A cries makes its way up her throat, but she muffles it with her hand. I slowly walk over to the back of the couch and gently sooth my hands over her shoulders, hoping the couch makes a good enough barrier to keep her confortable. "I get it, okay? I finished the drumming for the entire album last week, but vocals are more important - don't interrupt me, Brenda." She says harshly when I open my mouth to argue her importance in our band. She takes a breath, "Vocals take more time, I understand that, okay? I really do. But Ryan texted what time she left the studio. Five. She left at five." She turns her head to look at me, "It's eight o'clock. You had three hours to make it to the restaurant, but didn't, so don't you go blaming Ryan."

"I can't even remember the last time we've gone out to someplace that's nicer than Applebee's, Brenda." She whispers.

Biting my lip and swallowing hard, I take my hands away from her and make my way around the couch until I'm standing only feet away, "I'm horrible, I know, I'm a bad girlfriend, I'm sorry, Spence, I really am. I love you, you know that, right?" I pause before whispering the last word, honestly afraid of what her answer might be.

She shakes her head and wraps her arms sound my waist. I do the same around her neck, "You're not- you aren't that bad, Bren, you just need to practice remembering things. It's our aniversary and I spent most of it wondering if you were even going to come home at a decent time. I called to remind you, knowing the 'no phones in the studio' rule, hoping you'd find time to maybe text me on _our anniversary_." Spencer says roughly, looking past my head and out the windows that take up a wall in our house. I can't tell if she's going to cry or give me a black eye. I think I'd prefer the last.

I really just want to tell her I love her, over and over, but all that comes out is all wobbly, "Marry me?" that probably surprises me more than her.

Feeling her muscles go tight under my gentle fingertips makes my stomach do acrobatic flips.

"Uh, oh, Bren..." Spencer stutters.

I curse, I really didn't mean to say that. Spencer pulls away from me to look up at my face, "Brenda..."

I look back at her and repeat myself, asking for her answer, pleading, with hope filling my eyes while a small dash of doubt flickers in and out of hers.


End file.
